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Requiem

While I grew up, my grandmother lived in a house that was over two hundred years old. She always told stories about her childhood in Sweden. Her garden was an adventure in itself, and there was always a lot to do — chopping wood, picking apples, flowers, strawberries, digging up potatoes, cutting branches from the trees, painting the house. My grandmother fetched water from a well, and got a telephone very late in her life. At her house, everything was understandable; the fire gave warmth, the house gave a shelter, and the sky gave sun and rain. My grandmother has had a strong influence on my life, and since her death, I often have conversations with her in my dreams. This series of pictures was printed more than ten years after she passed away. It is a little homage to a great person.
Photographs
 
 
Existence, NIFCA, Helsinki 2000.
 
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